The Art of Confessing
by Procrastination Fairy
Summary: When Mamoru confessed to Usagi, she thought it was a joke. Usagi is now faced with the idea that she might not be quite the angel she thought she was-and Mamoru might be the love of her life.


I was a ditz. I'd never tried to deny it. I was clumsy, forgetful, and naïve, but I'd never been ashamed of it. It was who I was. It wasn't until I walked into the new Crown Arcade that any thoughts like that even occurred to me. I sighed and pulled out my science test. So I forgot an equals sign in the conversion? I got the right answer! So I misspelled a word? What I meant was obvious! So I didn't write my name on the paper? Mrs. Haruna should know my handwriting by now!

I looked back at the B – written at the top of the page. My parents were going to kill me! And this wasn't even a bad grade!

"Are you going to keep blocking the door? Whoa—how do you manage to get a grade like that on such an easy test? And where's your name? Do you not know it?" the voice taunted. What a jerk!

I turned around and glared.

There was a tall man behind me. He seemed to relish in my failure, his lips pulled into a smirk and his dark blue eyes goading me. His lips were released. They were moving. He was saying something. "So you really don't know your name? I'll call you Odango then!"

I glowered. "My name is Usagi Tsukino!"

I stormed off to sit with my friends. They promptly teased me for making a scene. I wanted to die. I hate attention like that. It was that jerk's fault. He was the one that started the stupid thing.

That jerk would be Mamoru Chiba. He was everything I wasn't: a super-genius, probably with a 170 IQ, calm, and rich. I mean, honestly, he has to be. He's only a college student, and I've seen his car.

Mamoru just had to tease me every day! I didn't understand why! I never did anything to him except respond. With the behavior he exhibits, I'm sure that why I grew to hate him is a no-brainer.

Six months after that incident, something happened.

* * *

Alright, maybe I was a bit vague. I was sitting with my four best friends—Ami, Minako, Rei, and Makoto—at the Crown Arcade, sharing curly fries in one of those big red baskets. I continually kicked the paneling under the booth seat to annoy Rei. She continually dripped ranch on the fires to annoy me. For us, it was an ordinary Saturday. We had the same plans as always and were trying to finish as quickly as possible.

I hadn't expected an exciting day. My friends and I would go to the mall right afterwards, but that wasn't anything new.

"Er—Usagi?"

I turned my head. I could hardly believe that Mamoru was calling me by my name. Without warning, my friends excused themselves and scooted out of the booth.

"We'll see you at the mall," Ami promised as she showed me her cell phone. She was telling me to call her so I knew where we could meet up.

I grimaced. That jerk was making my friends run off! Mamoru sat into the seat opposite from me, right where Rei had been. I decided to continue kicking. It vexed him. Well, he deserved it. My friends left me alone! I hate being alone! That meant I would have to walk to the bus alone and ride the bus alone. Who could blame me for being irritated? I got that kind of stuff from him all the time and I was the only one! Rei was actually friends with him.

Mamoru looked nervous. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the table. I grabbed a cold fry and ate it slowly.

"Usagi, I love you," he said.

My teeth snapped together, the remaining portion of the fry falling into my lap. I groaned and brushed it off my skirt. I wondered if it left a stain. I glanced back up at Mamoru. I scowled at his stupid fake pleading expression. He couldn't fool me! I swore that there was no bigger jerk in the world that Mamoru Chiba.

I rolled my eyes. "Are you crazy? Do you expect me to believe you? How could you even possibly think I'd like you? I hate you! You are such a jerk, Mamoru!"

His features tightened as his eyes grew wide. Mamoru thought that look could trick me—ha! No matter how much his pretty blue eyes coruscated, I would never, ever like him. Or believe. How could he pull such a cruel joke on me?

Mamoru stared at the table for a moment, before muttering goodbye and leaving the arcade.

I murmured, "Well, that was weird," and grabbed my bag. I walked up to the counter while I dug for money.

I asked, "How much is it, Motoki?"

Motoki's grip on the glass he pouring soda into tightened. He gritted out between his teeth, "Makoto already paid for everything."

"Oh," I said. I put my money away. A perplexed look fell upon my face. I leaned forward. "Are you mad at me?"

Now Motoki was looking at me like I was insane. He slowly replied, "You shouldn't have been so rude to Mamoru."

"Why not? He's rude to me every day. Plus, that was a horrible joke to play. He's just lucky I didn't fall for it."

"You . . . honestly think that it was just a joke," said Motoki incredulously. He handed the soda to a five-year-old waiting anxiously. I was starting to wonder if Motoki had inhaled too many milkshake fumes.

"Well, yeah."

He exhaled slowly. "Usagi, please, just leave."

"I'm not banned, am I?" I couldn't bear that!

"No, I just really don't think I should see you anymore today. I'm in a . . . really bad mood, and just—just go." Motoki muttered something I couldn't understand. I walked out the door listening to the bell jingle.

Why was he mad at me?

* * *

I struggled to reach the zipper on my back as I related what happened to my friends.

"Mamoru said he liked you?" Makoto laughed. "Whoa. Never saw that one coming."

"It was a joke! It was mean!" I insisted.

Minako called from her dressing room, "I don't know, Usa. I've seen Mamoru look at you a couple of times. Maybe he really does like you. . . . Hey, is anyone else finished?"

"Please," I scoffed. "No one looks that sad at a confession. And I'm dressed."

The other girls agreed. We admired each other's dresses and went back to the dressing rooms.

"Considering Mamoru's track record with Usagi, it is most likely that it was a joke," explained Ami. I beamed, but even if my friends had been with me, they wouldn't have seen. My head was inside of my dress. "Although, I have seen Mamoru staring, so I'd say that there is a forty-three percent chance that he actually does like her, so I will not voice my personal opinion."

"You can't be serious," I cried.

Makoto said, "Ooh, I feel bad for him if he does. You rejected him pretty harshly."

"Poor Mamoru," Rei agreed.

I huffed. "You're just like Motoki! Why would he take his side anyway?"

My friends were silent for a moment. I heard Minako's voice from the side of the door of my stall, saying, "Usagi . . . ." Suddenly, lots of blonde hair and red bow were sprawled at my feet. I stepped away so I didn't pull any of it. Minako crawled under the door to stand in front of me. She was already back in her jeans and orange-striped jacket. She played with the white cuff. I pulled my Snoopy hoodie on.

"Usagi, did you know that Mamoru and Motoki are best friends?" she asked.

"They are?" I stared at my feet as I tucked them into my shoes, trying to distract myself with the question I'd been asking for the longest time—are the stripes blue or black?

Minako nodded and opened the door. Ami, Rei, and Makoto were already waiting on us. "Yeah. And I would that as Motoki, Mamoru's best friend, is taking his side, that it would mean that Mamoru really does like you."

Or love me, I thought, as I remembered his confession. Could he really love me?

* * *

I turned onto my side in my bed and glanced at the clock. It was only 1:03. How could so much have already happened today?

I remembered Mamoru's face after I'd rejected him. His eyes had been trembling, begging me to change my mind, to say I liked him back. He looked like he was in anguish. He almost reminded me of one of those poor dogs at the humane society that no one ever wants to adopt, the ones that know what's going to happen to them and are hoping for a miracle while watching people pick puppies day after day. To Mamoru, I must have been that miracle. How could I have ever been so mean? Mamoru never was that much of a jerk to me anyway. Sure, he was terrible when I first met him, but he eased off. Lately, I'd started all of our fights. I'd always that I was pretty much a perfect child, a good girl. I argued with my brother about that all the time. He called me mean. Maybe Shingo was right. Could I have done that to a puppy? I didn't think so. What made Mamoru any different?

I flopped onto my stomach. That still didn't give him an excuse for looking so sad while confessing to me. I'm not that bad. I couldn't be, or else he wouldn't have decided that he loved me.

Mamoru's humane society puppy face flew behind my closed eyelids. I watched as his gaze fell to the table where his hand looked like it would just about break a piece off. He looked so defeated. Like he'd expected this, but had been hoping so much that I would just . . . . I felt horrible. Not only did I reject someone who truly loved me, I did harshly. If I was him, I would never want to confess again.

It shocked me as I realized that I had secretly loved Mamoru for the past few months. It seemed obvious as I thought back to it. I hated the arcade when he wasn't there. I was always looking for him. I'd secretly glance at him studying. Mamoru looked so nice studying. He was so serious and intent. It suited him. It occurred to me that I had been angry when I thought that Mamoru was playing a joke on me because I'd wanted him to love me. I stopped myself from crying. I imagined Mamoru's face lighting up when he looked. I imagined him trying to tell me about his ineffable love for me.

"I don't think I'll ever be finished describing it to you."

"You can have forever to do so."

At this point, I wasn't sure I wanted to live without that.

I stood up and walked back to the arcade.

* * *

I threw the door open and ran to the counter. "Motoki, where does Mamoru live?"

Motoki explained what the order was to another worker and walked over to me. He said, "Usagi, tell me exactly what you want with Mamoru. I don't want you to hurt him anymore."

I wanted to say that I didn't want to hurt Mamoru either. Instead, what came out was, "You were right. I was mean earlier. I want to apologize."

"Is that all? Right now, seeing you may do more harm than good." He seemed disappointed. He repeated his mutter from earlier. This time I understood what he said. "And I thought you were good for him."

"It's not all," I whispered. I could feel a blush stretching for ear to ear. Motoki smiled

"Usagi, I'm going to give you his address. He should be home; he doesn't have any classes, but if he isn't, go back tomorrow before 10:00, but after 5:00. Be good to him. He's been through a lot."

Before I could find a response, I felt a scrap of paper in my hand and saw Motoki taking an order at the other side of the room.

* * *

I marveled at the apartment building Mamoru lived it. It looked so nice! I stepped toward the automatic doors. Mako's apartment had the doors on the outside. It was nothing like this.

The woman at the desk eyed me. I shied back. She didn't seem like the type to take a fourteen-year-old seriously.

"Are you Usagi?"

I looked at the door. A tall brunette carrying a stack of books waved at the woman behind the desk. She nodded in response. I tried not to be scared that a stranger knew my name. The brunette hurried to walk beside me.

"I'm Reika Nishimura. Do you know Motoki? I'm his girlfriend," she said. That made me feel a little better. She confided, "Mamoru talks about you all the time. I recognized you because of your hair.

"You're going to see him?" Reika asked. I flushed and nodded. She handed me the stack of books. "Could you take care of that for me? I'm running late for an interview. I have this great opportunity to go to Africa, and—"

I nodded.

Reika turned around and headed to the door. I glanced back at the address to find the apartment numbers and rode the elevator up. I found Mamoru's door and knocked.

It took a minute before he answered. I don't know what I was expecting to see, but he didn't look terrible at all. Sad, but it seemed that he was used to it. That gave my heart a pang. I didn't want him to be used to being sad. No one should be used to that. People should typically be happy. I'd thought that Mamoru was happy, but could that have been just because he was talking to me?

I wished it was.

"Oh—Usagi! Hello. Um, would you like to come in?" Mamoru sputtered. His face lit up as he saw me, but the light in his eyes quickly faded.

I smiled. "Yes! I mean, sure. Um . . . Reika gave me these books to give to you."

"Huh? Oh, uh, thanks." He gently eased them from my hands and walked somewhere in his apartment. I waited awkwardly outside until some of his neighbors came out. They stared at me. I gingerly stepped inside. Mamoru's ugly green jacket hung on the coat rack on my left. I shifted onto that ankle and cocked my head. His cologne drifted toward me and I thought I could smell roses from his pocket. I leered so I could see. A small rose was broken in half on the floor.

Was Mamoru going to give that to me?

I leaned a bit too far and fell into the coat rack.

Silly me grabbed the (falling, in case you didn't catch that) coat rack for stabilization. It clearly didn't help at me. I found myself entangled with all of Mamoru's jackets and a few hats. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore that fact that the a few rose petals fell from the green jacket's pocket. I pushed a light gray one and a heavy leather one off of me. I looked at the gray jacket.

The pain of the fall must have disguised my hand hitting the rose. A small dot of blood was on the coat.

"Usagi!"

I blinked. Mamoru had returned from wherever he had gone. Looking down at the mess I made, I blushed. He picked up the main piece and a branch fell off.

"Um, sorry. I think I broke your coat rack. And I got blood on your jacket. Sorry."

Mamoru stopped all of his picking up and rearranging. He reached over to me. "You're bleeding?'

I lifted my right hand. A scratch about an inch long stretched across my palm. I grimaced. I needed that hand to write with. I gestured to my bag that I had dropped on the other side of the door (which was still open. As he passed it, Mamoru closed it). I took out a few of the Band-Aids I always carried and patched up my hand. I waved it in Mamoru's face. With a slight smile, he leaned away. I said, "See? All better!

"Well, maybe not your coat rack. What did you have that rose for?"

Mamoru didn't answer me. He held out his hand. I reached with my right, then switched to the left. As I stood on my left ankle, I squeaked. Mamoru grabbed my shoulders.

He said, "You hurt your ankle again, didn't you? Usagi"—a sigh—"you need to be more careful."

"Actually, it's the other ankle," I corrected to which he replied, "What does it matter? You still need to be more careful."

Mamoru let me sit on the couch by his coffee table. I sat on one end. He sat on the other. Neither of us spoke. He took a sip of his coffee. His eyes widened as he hastily set it back down and stood up.

"I'm sorry; I'm being rude. Would you like something to drink?" Mamoru offered.

I suddenly realized that I was extremely thirsty. "Water, please."

He hesitated. "Are you sure? I have hot chocolate!"

"You don't have to—" I began. Mamoru shook his head violently. His hand moved as if he wanted to touch me, but he stopped. I wondered if he was trying to get me to stay longer. I liked that idea.

"I want to. Do you want hot chocolate, Usagi?"

"Okay."

I waited quietly as he made it, listening to the clink of the glasses. Eventually, I became bored. I tried to remember where Mamoru had walked off to. Testing my ankle and deciding that I had merely twisted it, I hobbled towards my host. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, waiting for him to notice me. Finally, he finished stirring the hot chocolate. Mamoru turned around, gasping when he saw me. He nearly spilled my drink. Upon realization of that, he thrust it into my hands.

"Sorry," Mamoru said.

"I'm sorry I scared you." He held out his arm to help me back to the couch. I waited a second before deciding that this was the right time to tell Mamoru what I came here for. "Er, Mamoru, I . . . also wanted to apologize for this morning. At the arcade. I was rude. And for breaking the coat rack. I'm not normally that clumsy. And I don't normally get hurt this much. Sorry."

We sat back down on opposite ends. I took a long drink of hot chocolate. Mamoru nodded and smiled sadly all while he kept his gaze at me. I saw adoration in his beautiful blue eyes. I liked being adored. I adored him back. I hoped he could see that.

"It wasn't a joke, Usagi," he said.

"I know."

I sipped my hot chocolate as slowly as I could. I didn't want to leave yet. It was hard to drink like that though. Hot chocolate tastes best, well, hot, and because Mamoru made this for me, I think it was the best hot chocolate I'd ever had.

Mamoru was hot, I mused.

I'd never thought that about a guy I actually knew before. My hand flew up to my mouth to keep liquid from flying out, and the cup fell to the floor. What was left of it spilled.

"I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz! It's so weird, though; I normally don't just drop things; usually, I knock them over—wait, you know that; I just knocked over your coat rack. Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." I couldn't even open my eyes. If my spiel this morning hadn't ruined his feelings for me, surely my spill now had.

"Usagi—" I felt his hands on my shoulders. I liked the feel of his hands. "Usagi, look!"

There was a brown rug.

"Oh."

My head turned back into place. I was staring at Mamoru. He seemed content sitting there with me. I was content too. But I wanted to make us both exuberant.

"I like you," I said. "I don't know if I love you yet, but I'm just fourteen, and I— I really want to . . . ." I struggled to find the right words. "I mean, I don't want to tell someone I love them unless I'm sure I mean it. But I like you a lot! I think I might love you, but I'm only fourteen—"

Mamoru put his hand on my mouth. I'd been babbling. I looked at him. A bright smile took up the majority of his face. "Usagi, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

He hugged me tightly. I stiffened. I didn't like hugs—they brought back a bad memory of a day my parents forgot to pick me up and wouldn't answer their phones. He pulled back and kissed me instead. Blegh. He tasted like coffee.

I broke the kiss. "Just so you know, I hate coffee."

"You're making me choose between you and coffee? How could you be so cruel?" I was glad he was joking. He didn't seem sad at all anymore. I grinned. His smile grew even bigger. It seemed that we were having a smile contest.

"All I'm saying is that you can't taste like coffee when I kiss you," I explained.

Mamoru wrapped his arms around my waist. "So I can kiss you?"

"Go brush your teeth, mister!"

We started another smiling contest. I kissed him anyway.

**I just wanted to do something cute to boost up Mamoru. I'm getting so sick of seeing so many anti-Mamoru pieces. I respect those of you who like other people with Usagi, but you do not have to make Mamoru act horrible. He is a great guy. Do not bring up the R season break-up. I blame the director of the anime. It was completely unnecessary. If you honestly think that he's horrible, perhaps you should read the manga. You might at least decide that he's not a bad person.**

**This is somewhat of a gender-flip Art of Falling in Love. I had the idea in the same place and wrote it on my phone. Of course, the basic plot is slightly different.**

**I edited this because I just realized that I forgot about Reika's books. Oops.**


End file.
